


Poses

by cherryvanilla



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: ae_match, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Makes any boy feel like picking up roses.”</i>  Or, Arthur’s a college student and Eames is a nude model.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Team Romance on ae_match. Title and summary by Rufus Wainwright. Thanks to foxxcub for beta!

You aren’t interested in taking a Studio Art class. It’s your last semester in your senior year of college, you’ve already completed all your pre-requisite requirements and honestly, all you want is to graduate with your architectural engineering degree yesterday. Yet, here you are, paying for an elective you have no interest in just to be a wingman for Dom.

“I don’t understand why you need me for this,” you grit out for the millionth time.

“She’d think it was weird otherwise, me taking this class alone,” Dom muttered, looking straight ahead.

“Her father is the Dean of the University, Dom. The _Dean_. You have a death wish.”

“She’s worth a valiant death at the hands of a thousand suitors.”

“Oh for Christ's sake,” you moan, loudly.

Dom isn’t paying attention anymore as Mal enters the room, looking around. Her face is surprised upon spotting you both. She waves and walks over, sliding into the seat diagonal from Dom.

“Dominic, Arthur, so nice to see you here,” she says softly, words heavily accented. And alright, she’s charming but it’s still no excuse for the way Dom’s face has gone all soft and gooey-eyed.

“I did not realize you were both artistes.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been drawing for ages. Arthur here’s a little new, aren’t you?”

He hits you lightly on the shoulder. You grind your teeth and slap him back, aiming for a casual guy-like rebuttal but probably coming off bitchy. “Yeah, newbie here. That’s me.” Fucking Dom, you could draw circles around him you just have no interest to unless it’s a building or bridge.

“Well I am glad you are here,” she says, accenting every syllable and looking only at Dom. You roll your eyes; slumps back in his chair and nudge Dom with your elbow, silently telling him to cool it. He completely ignores you and only takes his eyes off Mal when the professor enters the room.

“Welcome, class. We’re going to dive right in here so please take out your materials and say hello to our model for the day, Mr. Eames.”

You watch as a man a few years your senior glides into the room, clad in a black robe. Your mouth runs dry. Mr. Eames is already one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever laid eyes on; you’re not sure how you’re going to handle his body.

You don’t have long to figure out a game plan as Eames drops the robe, standing like some naked Adonis. You roll your eyes at the comparison your mind has supplied, and when you look straight ahead the guy is staring at you. You swallow and pick up your pencil with shaking fingers. You stare at his face as your hand flies across the page. Your eyes drift to his lips and you squirm in your seat, watching entranced as the he runs his tongue over them. The rest of the posing features much of the same: yourself getting flushed and trying to sink as low as you can in your chair while Mr. Eames’ eyes repeatedly meet your own. You begin to draw his cock, the curve and shape of it, and pretend not to notice how it’s beginning to fill ever so slightly. You nearly moan at the sight.

He begins to avoid your gaze and you like to believe it’s because he’s getting just as turned on. His body is perfection, all flat planes and bronze skin. You draw the smatterings of hair on his chest and torso, the pink of his nipples, the thick hair at his pelvis, the cut lines of his arms and shoulders. You attempt to remain detached, but it’s impossible and when all you want is to rub your entire body against his.

The professor announces class is complete and you jump, hand still flying over the page, drawing the definition in his calves and the perfect curvature of his ass.

Dom takes one look at you and smirks. “You owe me an apology.”

“In your dreams,” you say, watching the guy slip back into his robe and leave with a backpack.

Mal slings her bag over her shoulder. “Arthur, Dominic is going to walk me to my next class. Would you like to join?”

Dom turns to you, mouthing, “No, no.”

“No thanks, Mal, I think I’ll... stick around here for a bit.”

Dom raises his eyebrows and you give him the finger.

You fuss with your sketch a bit longer, and then pretend to be preoccupied with your phone when Eames walks back in and begins talking to the professor.  
You wait a little longer, discreetly watching as their conversation draws to a close. You time it so you’re walking up to him just as the professor is walking away.

“Hey, I’m Arthur. Mr. Eames, right?”

He shakes your offered hand and grins. “Just call me Eames. Nice to meet you.” British. Of course he would be foreign; American guys are never this hot. He gestures to the sketch you’re holding face down against your pad. “Can I see your drawing?”

You bite your lip, suddenly inexplicably nervous. “Sure.”

Eames studies the sketch for a long moment. “This is how you see me?” His voice sounds wondrous.

Your raise your hand to the back of your neck, scratching absently. “Um, yeah, I--”

He cuts you off. “What year are you?”

“Senior.”

“I graduated two years ago. Work at an art studio nearby, do some private classes. You should drop in sometime. You’ve got real talent.”

Suddenly, art is the most interesting thing in the world to you.

You smile at him. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Your eyes meet and hold, the air around you charged. You swallow and watch as Eames’ eyes roam over your body, suddenly feeling as naked as he’d been minutes prior. “Actually,” he drawls, voice a deep rumble. “Do you have class now?”

You do. “No, I’m done for the day.”

Eames smiles brightly and you can finally see his teeth, crooked yet perfect all at once. You suddenly long to sketch them. “Brilliant! I’m famished. Join me for dinner?”

You’re beginning to understand why Dom is so taken with Mal: it’s got to be the accent, because you’re utterly charmed right now.

“Yes, definitely,” you say.

Eames flashes you another killer smile and turns to guide you out the door, palm on the base of his spine. You shiver and think you may not be able to make fun of Dom for much longer; you’re feeling rather gooey-eyed at the moment.

[end]


End file.
